


now the first of December was covered with snow

by Fanless



Category: SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation
Genre: Abstract, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Non-Canonical Character Death, POV First Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 18:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanless/pseuds/Fanless
Summary: Goodnight you moonlight ladies, rock-a-bye sweet baby JamesDeep greens and blues are the colors I choose, won't you let me go down in my dreams?And rock-a-bye sweet baby JamesResearcher Talloran ruminates on his many, many lifetimes.





	now the first of December was covered with snow

If you don’t know much about me, there’s not much to be known.   
  
Even I don’t remember as much as I should; or, at least, as much as most people remember about their lives. Most people remember the great majority; I only remember what decides to present itself, usually prompted by some kind of outside stimulus to the body while fronting.   
  
The feel of wet earth under bare toes, squishing out into an expanse of green grass.

(Several times it was on a farm, several times it wasn’t.)

Heat and light. (Sometimes a welcome relief. Sometimes a horrific pain.)

Falling from a high building and turning, midair, to see a great variation of spikes pointing up almost accusingly, coming closer and closer with every moment…   
  
Of course, most people don’t have the sheer number of memories that somehow managed to fit into my brain. Most people don’t have the “opportunity” to live through their own death in every possible permutation, as well as lives that shouldn’t possibly have had the ability to be lived.   
  
… when I put it like that it only makes sense that I should have a bit of difficulty.  
  
My name is James Talloran, occasionally shortened to Tal. I'm probably in my late twenties to thirties, not that that narrows things down much. I used to be a scientist and researcher; now I'm not entirely sure what I am, but it's nowhere near the   
  
All of this completely does not surprise me, and I wish it were otherwise.

I wish I could stop waiting for the world to fold in on itself and the next cycle of torment to begin, the next remaking of reality. I wish I could stop waiting for either the metaphorical or literal axe to fall.  
  
Maybe that comes with time.

I only wish I could remember what _time_ really is, or what it means for me. Whether it's finally running normally, or whether this life I've found myself in is just another bubble ready to pop.


End file.
